The Talk
by Bluesunkatsuri
Summary: *Trouble spin-off* Northern Ireland is a teenager, and like all teenagers, he experiments sometimes. When he got a girlfriend, his four big brothers decided it was time to have 'the Talk' with him. However, it doesn't exactly go as they hoped... *mentions of adult themes, nothing graphic*


**Just another quick story****. This popped into my mind one evening and wouldn't go away until I wrote it down, so here you have it.**

**A short spin-off one-shot of Trouble, much like Drinking Together. This takes place twenty years before that, though, in the good ol' '90s.**

**Partially inspired by my little sisters (North's behaviour andway of thinking, at least) who both hit puberty a little while ago. Twins are horrible when they become rebelious teens simultaneously...*shudders***

**Anyway, as you could tell from the title and summary I hope, there are mentions of 'adult themes' in this, but of course, nothing graphic. It is, after all, merely the infamous 'Talk'. But if you really want to hear an age... 14/15+ or something?**

**Well, however short it is, I hope you'll like it. To me, it's just something else than all the angst in Trouble.**

**I don't own Hetalia, but my British and Irish OCs are mine, obviously.**

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><p>Northern Ireland sat in a chair, surrounded by his four older brothers. They were all as uncomfortable as he was, only North didn't show it. He was currently in what people called 'puberty', but it seemed a bit weird to him to hit puberty only after a good seventy years of life. He just called it 'rebellious'. Whatever it was, he didn't want to show any discomfort in this situation. He didn't want to have this talk with his brothers, because he knew what was coming. He'd more or less caused this himself, what with his recent actions. Most of all, however, he didn't want to agree with anything his brothers were about to tell him. And on that note, perhaps he <em>was<em> in that stupid period of puberty. But of course he would never admit so out loud, not in front of his brothers or anyone in the government.

Yeah, he was _definitely_ the rebellious teenager people thought him to be right now.

"Well, Coineach," England began, clearing his throat. "As you're aware of, the three of us all know about your... recent escapades... And it's high time we had a talk with you on the matter." North rolled his eyes. Why couldn't they just say it out loud? So he had a girlfriend, what was the big deal about it? And yes, he'd gone a little further than mere kissing last week. _What's the big deal about it?_

"Thing is, Coineach, that's just _not done _for nations," Wales tried to explain to him. "We aren't supposed to have relationships with humans. Not like that." North sighed. Oh, this entire conversation was going to be hilarious. The one that seemed most uncomfortable was Ireland, though the young nation could understand that much. Out of the five siblings, he was the most religious one, and talking openly about these things was probably just as 'not done' to him as the dating a human itself. Northern Ireland grinned, asked his brothers if he could be excused for just a minute, went to his kitchen and returned with two bottles of beer, which he casually handed to his oldest brother. He himself wasn't allowed to drink yet, and that was one of the few rules he actually followed, but he always had a few bottles in his fridge for his older brothers, who visited him as frequently as he did them. And right now, he knew that Ireland would be comfortable enough to open up in this conversation after two beers. When the other three looked at him accusingly ('and why not some for us, too?') he shrugged.

"You're not the ones constantly fumbling with the rosary you usually hide under your shirt," he said casually, at which Ireland went red, put said rosary back under his shirt and silently drank the beer. Scotland smirked and shrugged as well. It was hard to disagree with the truth. "Anyway, let's just get this over with. Say what you wanna say."

"_Want to_," England corrected him with a sigh (North rolled his eyes again) and continued, "Can you imagine why we're not supposed to date humans?" North just sighed and shrugged. He knew many reasons, but he didn't give a shit. If he wanted a girlfriend, he would have one. The four older nations waited a moment, though they all knew North wasn't going to answer the question. With a sigh, it was Scotland's turn to speak.

"We live eternally," he said. "An' they don't. Ye cannae think mortals an' immortals mix, 'cause they don't. Second, an' I know it's highly unlikely, but just imagine, laddie..." He grimaced for a moment, then spat the words out like they were venom. "If ever there would be _offspring_ of a nation and a human! That's just _disgraceful_. Repulsive."

"Not that there's anything wrong with humans," Wales interjected before North could get the wrong idea. "Humans are the best things in the world. Well, to us. They are what keeps us alive, after all. But we can't _mix_ with them. It would be a disgrace -to the government, to the people and to ourselves." Ireland gave a quick nod and mumbled an agreement before flipping the lid off his second bottle of beer and quickly drinking it. After this one, hopefully, he'd be able to participate in this conversation without that ever lingering feeling of shame and embarassment. He probably wouldn't have had this much trouble with it, if only the subject wasn't _Northern Ireland._ That was the part that made him most uncomfortable with it all. North noticed this and snorted. It was pathetic.

He then looked at his older brothers again, one by one, and demanded, "And what about you guys? Surely _you_ have disgraced the government and the people and yourselves before?" Suddenly it was silent, and none of the older nations looked at their youngest sibling anymore. Northern Ireland grinned. Jackpot. He pointed at England, who nearly jumped off the couch in shock. "You!" North said accusingly. "I've heard the rumours about your pirate age! Another woman in every harbour... every night."

"And not just women, laddie," Scotland snickered softly, smirking as he looked in the opposite direction of England. "Don't ye be fooled by the stupid notion he only went for _women_ back then. Anythin' pleasin' was alright. Right, Artie?" England, who resembled a tomato at this point, still didn't look at anyone, fidgeting a little. "But that's alright!" Scotland went on, giving his younger brother a firm pat on the back. England, if possible, blushed only more at his brother's next words. "But that's only natural. Essentialy, _all_ nations swing both ways, what with bein' married off randomly. Hell, I used t'be married to _France_ at one point in history. An' then, later, he proposed to lil' Artie here, o'course." Suddenly, his expression became a thoughtful one, and more softly, he added, "I don't think _humans_ found it as 'natural' to see their nation -or pirate captain, what have ye- with _men_... Wasn't even less accepted back then than 'tis now."

"My father was the Roman Empire!" England said suddenly, trying to defend himself. "You can't blame me. Unlike some nations, I grew up knowing that _both ways were fine._ End of the story."

From this point onward, North decided it was best to just sit back and watch the scene unfold. His brothers were doing just fine without anymore of his intervention. "But I'm not the only one!" England exclaimed, looking at his three older brothers. "Like hell I am! Allistair, I _know _the kilts are just _convenient._" At this, Scotland just shrugged. That wasn;t their sole purpose, but... well, it was true. Especially the true 'Scottisch way' of wearing them was very convenient sometimes. Wales seemed most calm right now, sighing a bit.

"Well, I can honestly say I haven't done anything in the past two centuries," he said, not looking at anyone in particular. "Which is probably better than any of you can say." Scotland nodded, and England, too, had to admit it _was_ indeed better. With a smirk creeping onto his face, Wales slowly turned to his right, looking at Ireland in silence. The Irishman's eyes were wide with fear as his little brother smirked at him like that. It was a look no one liked to see on Wales' face. "And how about our very own devout Catholic, hm?" Ireland's face seemed to be having an internal battle about whether is should become red or pale, and he stared at his little brother in silence for a moment, mouth slightly open.

"I'm over two-thousand," he said eventually, very carefully. "I hope ye dun'expect me to be a virgin..." And that was all he had to say on the matter, it seemed, because after this, he turned away from the others and began fumbling with his rosary again. Northern Ireland was most amusd by this, but still he refused to show any such emotions. His brothers couldn't know he was having fun with this. Wales patted Ireland on the shoulder and softly said he should get another beer and everything would be okay again. Ireland shook his head however, telling his brother the problem wasn't lack of alcohol at all, he had just enough of it in his system now to talk freely without any problems. The real issue was that he wasn't comfortable talking about his _own_ 'mistakes', especially not in front of North. Wales smirked again, shaking his head in amusement. Either Ireland was a bit too religious when it came to these things, or he was just slightly childish still. Perhaps both. "For me it were only women, though," Ireland said softly. "Not 'cause I defy the laws o'nation-nature, but because I'm not willin' t'be chased off me own island by the church. Or beheaded by 'em. And no more than one or two in a century. An' _nothin'_ for the past millenium... three centuries, more like it... or two..."

"I actually had some high-class ones as well, now that I think about it," England suddenly said, more to himself than anyone else. "Even back in the pirating days. Remeber Queen Elizabeth I?" There was a short silence after this, and North dug into his memory, hoping to remember who this queen was. He knew he'd heard about her before, many times even. England talked about her a lot whenever past monarchs came up in conversations. Eventually he remebered, but his older brother beat him to it.

"The one that declared herself married to ye?" Scotland asked with a smirk creeping onto his face. Oh, he liked where this was going. "The Virgin Queen?" England smiled and looked away, only the slightest blush appearing on his cheeks, hardly visible. He mumbled something then, and North could only just make out the words 'Yeah, well, she was _not_ a virgin, mind you...' At this, there were mixed reactions between the four other siblings. Scotland began laughing immediately, North finally allowed himself to smile and surpressed laughter. Wales and Ireland seemed shocked beyond belief. Their eyes wide, they stared at their younger brother in silence, speechless. Northern Ireland could understand as much. If doing anything like this with humans was against the rules, a monarch was completely out of the question. But he found the whole idea beautiful, not because it was oh-so romantic, but because it was just bloody hilarious.

"B-b-but you were what-" Wales spluttered eventually. "Sixteen? Seventeen?" England nodded and confirmed that, yes, he'd been something like that. Perhaps fifteen, he didn't really remember. When North looked at Ireland, he saw his brother was holding his rosary tightly in one hand, softly chanting 'I'm not part of this family, I'm not part of this family, I'm not part of this family...' Wales shoved closer to Ireland and away from England for a moment, adding to his brother's chant, "You know what? Right now, I don't think I want to be, either."

North just watched for a moment longer, but when the others fell silent, he shrugged and asked casually, "But anyway, what was the point of this conversation?" His four older brothers just stared at him in silence, exchanging questioning glances with eachother before staring back at him. The teenager went on, "Because if I'm not mistaken -and I'm not- this started out all educational and all, but eventually just turned into you telling me about your own mistakes. Conclusion: you're worse than I am. So what were you lot trying to tell me, really?" There still came no answer, and the four just looked at eachother again, mumbling a few incomprehensible things and whispering to eachother. North couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew they were scolding eachother for letting themselves get so sidetracked and ruining the entire life-lesson they had planned to give their little brother. Eventually, Northern Ireland just sighed and rolled his eyes once again, asking, "But it's okay if I take her out to dinner this weekend like I promised her?"

"Yeah, whatever," Scotland mumbled, looking away. He'd been the first to go off-topic, so he actually blamed himself right now, and that was easy to see in his expression. "Have fun with her, laddie."

"An by 'have fun', do you mean it doesn't matter what happens after said dinner?"

"Sure, do whatever you like..."

"Just don't touch any alcohol."


End file.
